Thursday, April 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
04/07/10
Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them. -Charles Simic
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
04/05/10
Poetry exists to give the socially awkward a way to finally be applauded by their peers. -Geoff Trenchard
Friday, April 2, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
04/01/10
I culled poetry from odors, sounds, faces, and ordinary events occurring around me. Breezes bulged me as if I were cloth; sounds nicked their marks on my nerves; objects made impressions on my sight as if in clay. There, in the soft language, life centered and ground itself in me and I was flowing with the grain of the universe. Language placed my life experiences in a new context, freeing me for the moment to become with air as air, with clouds as clouds, from which new associations arose to engage me in present life in a more purposeful way. —Jimmy Santiago Baca
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